A Collection of Fears
by MidnightLunatic
Summary: A collection of short (maybe long) stories of the countries and their fears and how they encounter them. Rated M to be safe...and for possible future chapters.
1. Tarantulas (CanadaxPrussia)

Tarantulas Part 1 (CanadaxPrussia)

"Oh Mattie~" the German called out from the bathroom. Said Canadian was already curled up in bed, buried under the fluffy covers. "What?..." he called out quietly.

"Come take a shower with me~"

"...No..."

Gilbert pouted. "Why not?"

"Because I already took a shower..."

He thought for a moment. "...well come take another one!"

"I said no..." Canada said, slightly annoyed.

"How about a bath then? I'll wash your back for you~" Quick, light, footsteps made their way to the bathroom. "With the maple-syrup-scented soap?..." Canada squeaked, cracking the door open.

"Only if you bathe with me~"

"...Fine." He let out a small yelp as the Germany pulled him inside, locking the door. "W-why'd you lock the door?..." He asked, reaching for the doornob before having his hand slapped away.

"You can open the door when we're done." Just now glancing at the albino, he realized that he was already naked. Which meant...

"...Gilbert..." Canada took a step back.

"Yes, Birdie~?" Prussia moved foward.

"D-Don't you dare..." His back was pressed against the wall.

"Don't I dare what~?" The albuino pinned him against the wall, restricting his movement.

"You know what." Matthew squirmed, and turned a dark red as he felt a hand tug his shirt. "W-We've been through this already.

"We have? I don't recall..." Gilbert smirked, and began to undress the Canadian, who in turn began to thrash about.

"I-I can undress myself! G-Gil!..."

* * *

Matthew sat in the warm water of the tub, defeated and miffed. More embarrassed than anything. "Aw, what's wrong, Birdie?" Matthew crossed his arms and turned away. "Mattie?..."

"Leave me alone..." He said quietly. He felt arms wrap around his torso and pull him close to the body behind him. "I said leave me alone, Gil..."

"What's wrong?..." Gilbert dragged his fingers down his chest, causing Matthew to shiver. "Y-You know I don't like it when you undress me..."

"You let me do it last night..."

"...T-That's a whole other story..." He mumbled quietly, blushing dark.

"But you still let me do it, right?"

"...Right..."

"Case closed. Now let me wash your back."

"Can you use the yellow washcloth? Please?..." The Canadian asked quietly. "It's my favorite washcloth..."

"What's so special about it?"

"It's extra soft..." There was a silence between the two.

"...extra soft? Really?"

"...yes..."

"Do they even make those?"

"Y-Yes!"

"...whatever you say then..." He reached for the yellow, "extra fluffy" washcloth, and poured Mattie's favorite soap on it. Matthew waited, and waited, and waited, and waited, before he began to grow impatient. "What's taking so long?" He asked, turning around. He was confused when he saw the German's face. It was incredibly pale, like paler than it usually is, his eyes were widened and staring at the top corner of the wall. "Uh...Gil?..." He waved his hand in front of the German's face, recieving no response. Wondering what had him so frightened, he followed his gaze to the corner.

And sitting there in the corner was a big, fuzzy tarantula, staring right back at them.

Of course, Matthew was startled. (Who wouldn't be? Like just imagine taking a bath/shower and looking up to see an effing tarantula on your ceiling.) The more he watched it, the less scary it became. Matthew let out a small giggle. "It's kinda cute~"

Gilbert still had his eyes glued on the spider, as he began to tremble.

Matthew sighed and climbed out of the tub. "I'll get it out of here." He headed to the kitchen for a bowl and a magazine. Just as he found the perfect large bowl, a earsplitting, blood-curling screech sounded from the bathroom, followed by a lot of splashing. "Gilbert!" He ran back to the bathroom to find the German curled up in the corner under his towel. "Where is it?..." he asked, after discovering it was no longer on the wall. "L-Look down..." Came a small voice from the German.

Sighing, Matthew looked down at the tub, and smiled when he found that fuzzy spider crawling on the side. He knelt down to pick up the spider with the magazine.

"Hey!"

"What now, Gil?..."

"That's my Playboy magazine!"

"..." Ignoring him, the Canadian picked up the tarantula with the magazine and trapped it with the bowl

"NOOOOOO! I CAN NEVER READ IT AGAIN!...or eat from that bowl...ew..."

Smiling, Matthew headed to his bedroom and put down the magazine to open the window. "Here, I'll let you breathe..." He removed the bowl before opening the window. Turning back to the magazine...

"...it's gone..."

* * *

A/N

This is my first story! Please tell me how I did!

I don't know if washcloths can be extra soft. But this is a fanfic. So if Mattie says it exists, then it exists in this story. Should I continue this in another chaper?

Please, I need ideas! So in the comments (or PM me), please tell me what fear i should write about next, along with the character(s) you would like it to be about! I'm working on another story, this one will be about America and Russia, and one of them has a fear of water. Thanks for reading~!

~MidnightLunatic


	2. Aquaphobia Part 1

Thanks a bunch to all who favorited/followed, or just read. And a very big thanks to LunallenaWrwolf01 for commenting! Here's the next chapter :)

Aquaphobia (AmerRus) Part 1

America impatiently glanced at his watch impatiently. "Damn commie...I told him two o'clock, and it's like...five after two! How dare he delay my pool time! That freak's gonna pay for this! I'm going to kick his fat ass! Then I'm going to-"  
"I believe you are the one with the fat ass."  
"..." America slowly turned around. "HOLY JESUS FUCKING CHRIST WHAT THE HELL?!" Because anyone would yell such a sentence if they turned around in their own home, to be greeted by a 5'11" Russian that you didn't let in your house...let alone your own bedroom.  
"Are you really that deaf-"  
"HOW DID YOU GET IN MY HOUSE?!"  
"Well I was knocking at your door for the past 10 minutes, and I was getting really hot-"  
"You wouldn't be hot if you took that stupid coat and scarf off." America recieved a glare for that.  
"...so my little friend helped me get in."  
The American snorted. "Dude you don't have any friends."  
Russia plastered that signature creepy (*coughcough*cute*coughcough*) smile on his face. "Would you like to meet her?"  
"Woah woah woah her? How the hell did you get a chick?"  
"That Alfred, is a secret."  
"...I want to see her. And don't call me Alfred. You creep."  
"Lets make a deal. You give me one hundred USD, and I'll have her twerk for you. Deal?" Russia sat on (America's) bed, resting his chin on the palm of his hand.  
"Are you insane?! That totally deserves two hundred bucks! Since she somehow survived with you."  
Russia's expression turned into a confused one. "But...I dont need any deer...especially not two hundred..."  
"Dollars man...don't you know slang terms?"  
"I know proper english."  
"Well this is America, not Britain...Just show me the girl." America stated, irritated. And his irritation turned into amusement when Russia reached into his coat and revealed his trusty lead pipe.  
"Isn't she beautiful?" America burst into a fit of laughter.  
"Dude that ain't a girl!" he yelled, clutching his sides and falling over.  
"What's so funny?..." The Russian had a hurt look on his face.  
"Wait...you're serious?..."  
"Da..."  
"...can I see 'her' for a moment?"  
"..." He hugged it. "Nyet."  
"Please? It'll only be a quick moment."  
"...Fine." He reluctantly handed over the heavy pipe. Oh, how he regretted it. For a certain American threw a certain pipe out a certain window. So now certain Russian had to be the living daylights out of a certain American. But not before jumping out the window after his lovely pipe.  
"Holy shit! Dude!" America ran to the window just in time to grab his ankle, which gave Russia the opertunity to deliver a kick to his face.  
"OW! MoFo I will DROP you!"  
"Go right ahead." So he did. So Russia marched himself right up back to his room. "Are you ready to be maimed?" That smile was once again plastered on his face.  
"...without your pipe?"  
"Da."  
"...so...you're going to kick my ass...without your pipe?"  
"Da."  
"...are you feeling okay?"  
"Da."  
"...where's your pipe?"  
"You threw it in the pool."  
"Then why don't you get it? I'll dry your clothes for you...and lock you in the closet. I don't want to see your stupid body."  
"...because I have a better idea~" with that, Russia carried America over his shoulder, and headed outside.  
"What the- dude! Put me down! Now!" He started kicking aimlessly before he left Russia's shoulder, into the air, and finally in the water.  
"You get it."  
America swam to the surface and coughed up a mouthful of water. "What the hell man?!"  
"You threw it in there."  
"It's your pipe!"  
"Shut up." Alfred was just in his reach, so he aimed a blow at his head. Big mistake. America, being as strong as he is, grabbed his ankle and pulled on it, sending Ivan over the edge. But in a split second, America was underwater with the weight of something on his shoulders...or someone. Russia cleared the gap in a single leap and landed square on poor Alfred's shoulders. He crouched down and tightly wrapped his arms around Alfred's (who is now struggling desperately to keep his head above the water, let alone breathe) head and neck.  
"R...R-Russia...your...cho...king m-me..."  
"Bring me back to solid ground. Now."  
"Get...off...me..."  
"Land!" He punched him.  
"O-Ow...why don't you just...swim?..."  
"Because I don't want to! Just bring me back to the edge!"  
"...not unless...you get off me..."  
"No! America I swear if you go underwater!" He all but screamed as his hips sank into the pool. He tighted his grip on the American.  
"C-can't...breathe..." Russia removed his arm from his neck and wrapped it around his torso instead.  
"Better?" he asked as America inhaled sharply.  
"Yes thank you..."  
"And I will choke you again if you don't bring me back to solid ground."  
"Just swim!"  
"I don't want to! Alfred!" He screamed as he sunk deeper when the American went underwater and tears began to run down his cheeks. Alfred immediately came back up.  
"Dude what's your problem?!"  
"Nothing! Just put bring me back to the edge! Please..." Russia tightend his grip on America's torso, crying softly.  
"...alright then...I will..." He moved over to the steps, careful not to go underwater any further (mainly from fear of having his body snapped in half under the weight of Russia and his grip.) But right before Ivan could even lay his foot on the step, Alfred flipped backwards sending them both underwater. Ivan was not a happy Russian.

* * *

I had this typed up a while ago, but by the time I got to my computer, my iPod deleted it. Btw, I type my stories on my Ipod on Notes, so that's why it takes a while...anyways, so before I loose it again before I can finish it, I'm uploading it in two parts. Next chapter will be here soon, hopefully :) thanks for reading!


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